


Cold Fusion

by frogfarm



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-10-21
Updated: 2002-10-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:10:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5233592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frogfarm/pseuds/frogfarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scenes from 1x17, "Fusion".  Mild Hoshi/T'Pol subtext. Captain Archer is protective and diplomatic; Trip is jealous of the Vulcans who dare to show emotion, but still primarily protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Fusion

> "It's been a long time  
>  A long time comin'  
>  But I know a change has got to come."  
>  \- Sam Cooke

Sub-commander T'Pol normally awoke each day at precisely 06-30, aware of her consciousness even before her eyes were fully open. With the exception of three days spent in sickbay recovering from a phase blast, she had not left her quarters more than twelve minutes after that hour during her entire time of service aboard Enterprise; indeed, it had always astounded her how much time humans devoted to rest, given their comparatively short lifespan. Now as she drifted toward awareness, the pain she felt in body and soul made her wish for a fleeting moment to never rise again.

The sound of the door chime brought her to full waking and a series of electronic chirps followed, the light whir of its opening a sign that someone already inside had triggered its lock. The fleeting memory of Tolaris made her want to sit up and cry out as she remembered his hasty departure; his sneer of disgust at her refusal, the searing aftermath of the meld and her own shame. She was locked inside her body, unable to tell if she was even breathing.

Her name reached her ears as a harsh whisper, and she held on fast to it.

"What happened?"

"Please, Captain!" Doctor Phlox's normally dry and soothing voice sounded unusually hushed. "I received a com from the sub-commander, and found her unconscious on the floor when I arrived. I called you before I did anything else. She doesn't appear injured, but...I would be reluctant to wake her even under normal circumstances, and now may be a particularly dangerous time."

"What are you talking about?" Archer's voice was a cold hiss, more Klingon than human, and there was a long pause before he spoke again. "I hope you can explain that without breaking confidentiality, because I'd hate to see you in the brig."

"I wasn't aware the ship had prison facilities." Phlox sighed heavily, all sign of humor gone. "Forgive me, Captain. The sub-commander had expressed her concerns to me regarding the safety of, shall we say...getting in touch with her emotions. I'm afraid my encouragement may even be responsible for her present condition."

_No,_ T'Pol thought, but her tongue refused to obey.

"My neuroscans indicate that she has suffered forcible telepathic contact."

A cloak of silence descended over the darkness, finally spawning two words.

"I see." Was that a tremor in the captain's voice? But he was speaking to someone else now, painfully formal.

"Captain Tavin. I'm sure I don't need to tell you, I wish I didn't have to ask this. But I need to know. Do you think Tolaris is capable of that? Assaulting another person?"

"I --" There were years of emotion in that single syllable, and T'Pol could likewise hear the Vulcan captain become more formal as a mask of control asserted itself. "There was a time when I would have denied it without another thought. But lately --" He stopped, breathing heavily until he could swallow. When he spoke again, he sounded almost as peaceful as a P'Jem priest.

"I'm sorry, Captain. We have little experience with negative emotions, after all -- for who would willingly seek out unpleasant experiences? But we have also learned valuable lessons in those times of crisis." A note of anger was there, under the monkish calm.

"Tolaris was one of the first to join me when I made my decision to take the _Vahklas_ and leave home. He was always somewhat prideful, and embraced our new life with a passion that occasionally outstrips his reason. Lately he had been...unsettled in his meditation." T'Pol realized she could see his face, the kindly features now stern and cold. "You have my word. If this accusation is true, he will be dealt with appropriately."

"...it's true..."

She barely heard herself, forcing the words out past the roaring in her ears. Phlox was holding a straw of water to her mouth while Archer towered over her like a mountain radiating silent concern from every pore, Tavin standing stiff and silent in the background. She knew the captain was exerting great effort to restrain himself from peppering her with questions, and waved the water away with a weak cough.

Feeling gradually returned to her limbs as she haltingly recalled the entire agonizing incident. The worst part was the series of expressions on Archer's face as she described her mental violation, and for a moment she regretted having said anything, afraid he might be foolish enough to engage Tolaris physically. But one look at his face was enough to quash her fears. The captain was obviously doing his best to control his own emotional response to the situation, and he had shown promise in this area in the past. Reading his emotions was more clear now than ever before, and she would trust him to resolve the situation without needless hostility or diplomatic embarrassment.

"I see," Archer said again as she concluded. He turned to Tavin with a grim expression, slowly nodding.

"You know, she warned me. Before you even came on board, she tried to convince me you people were dangerous." Tavin opened his mouth, but Archer pressed on with a relentless calm more frightening than any outburst. "You'd think I'd have learned to trust her by now."

"Captain." They all turned surprised looks upon her, but her voice was steady despite the lingering weakness. "Neither you nor the doctor are at fault. It is not logical to blame yourself."

Archer's face softened slightly as he gazed down at her. "And you should know by now that logic doesn't have all the answers." The smile disappeared once more as he faced Tavin.

"I'm going to talk to Tolaris alone, but I want you right outside my ready room. As a witness...and in case he has trouble controlling himself."

The Vulcan captain inclined his head slightly, matching the gravity of his human counterpart. "I will be there."

Archer swallowed an immediate retort -- _See that you are_ \-- and hit the door switch harder than necessary. His sweeping exit was marred by the unexpected presence of someone outside who he would have run into, and he bit back another oath as he recognized Ensign Sato, her hair disheveled, wrapped in a fuzzy bathrobe.

"Captain? What's going on?"

Archer took a deep breath, obviously running through a number of responses. "Talk to the doc," was all he said before striding down the hall. The Vulcan captain gave a curt nod as he followed, and Hoshi sent a puzzled look after them before glancing into the room. Her eyes went wide at the sight of T'Pol prone on the floor, head still cradled in the doctor's lap.

"T'Pol!" She rushed in, kneeling down to take the Vulcan's hand in her own. "What happened? Is she okay?"

Phlox eased himself out from under his patient. "I sent your com immediately after I contacted the captain. I thought your presence might be useful if the sub-commander reverted to her native language in a time of stress. Ah -- help me get her to the bed, please?"

Hoshi complied, marveling at the scant weight of the other woman; she seemed scarcely a feather in their grasp, limp and unresisting. Phlox tucked the thin sheet under her chin, carefully monitoring her placid stare. He spoke more to himself than them.

"Although I must confess, I couldn't have been thinking too clearly at the time. Certainly you couldn't have spoken to her if the coma persisted --"

"Doctor." T'Pol's voice was still quite weak, but the note of command had returned. "I have said you were not to blame. The decision was mine alone."

"Logically, I'm aware of that." The doctor gathered his kit and stood with a heavy sigh. "But the captain was correct. Though I like to think of myself as the well-traveled one on this ship, your knowledge and experience have proven invaluable on numerous occasions. And in the future, I will give greater deference to your judgment." He swallowed again. "Your absence would be a great loss...to all of us."

She hoped he did not expect a response; indeed, she found it impossible to think of one. But Sato seemed to sense her discomfort.

"Doctor, you look really tired. I was up anyway, I can stay for a while and keep an eye on her." She looked back at T'Pol and down at their joined hands, as if seeing them for the first time, then back at the Vulcan's face. "I mean, if you want."

She nodded wearily, and Phlox offered an awkward bow. "Thank you, Ensign. Call me if she experiences any further discomfort. Sub-commander --" A formal nod. "I'll expect to see you for a checkup first thing in the morning."

The door slid shut behind his retreating form, and a bewildered Hoshi watched as the Vulcan sank back into her pillow.

"Do I even want to know what's going on? Did he say _coma_?"

T'Pol closed her eyes, unsure of where to begin even if she had wished to discuss it. The feel of Sato's hand in her own triggered another memory, one both more recent and less disturbingly ambiguous.

"On the Klingon vessel...when you were frightened."

"And you helped me," Hoshi murmured. T'Pol's face was like perfectly carved marble, even in motion. "I remember."

The Vulcan woman said nothing; but for once Hoshi didn't feel uncomfortable, and it was not to break the silence when she spoke again. "I've been thinking about it ever since, and I still can't figure out what you did. It wasn't like any drug or hypnotic effect. I had all that fear inside me, and as I sat there listening to you, it was like I gradually realized..." A hint of frustration entered her voice. "And then I don't remember what I realized."

T'Pol actually found herself praying. "Then the experience was positive?"

"Definitely!" Hoshi laughed. "You even need to ask?"

"You did not feel that I...took advantage of you? Controlled your emotions?"

"What? No! T'Pol, what does --" Hoshi broke off, a look of nausea and horror spreading over her face. T'Pol realized she could feel tendrils of realization reaching out from the woman's soul, but the overwhelming sense of relief provided strength to reassure.

"We will not discuss my problems, Ensign." She thought she managed to keep from sounding cruel, for Hoshi only nodded and squeezed her hand a little harder. When she judged the other woman able to move beyond, she did so.

"It is not common knowledge among humans, but my species retains some latent telepathic ability. Few these days develop their skills to any practical level, but it is rare for a Vulcan to be born with no sensitivity to other's minds." She looked into Sato's eyes, hoping again that the truth would be accepted. "On the Klingon ship, I...touched your mind. To guide you."

"Yes!" Hoshi smiled at the memory, wiping at her eyes with her free hand. "That's exactly what it was. It was like I could feel you just outside... watching over me."

T'Pol watched the woman's inner turmoil subside, still shrouded by prickles of concern. It almost made her sad to think that the only safe way to experience emotion was by proxy; but that was just one more emotional luxury.

"I told you then that I would teach you to meditate on your own. If you are willing, now would be a good time."

"Are you sure?" Hoshi's hesitation was readily apparent, and T'Pol nodded her assent.

"It would help me to...calm my thoughts."

 

* * *

 

Archer's face was neutral as they left the ready room, his phase pistol trained squarely between Tolaris's shoulders. His entire right side was in pain, and he found himself unable to disguise a limp that somewhat spoiled the dramatic effect; but it was worth it just to see the young Vulcan halt in his tracks at the sight of his own Captain, standing directly in their path.

He came about to one side, keeping a respectful distance from his captive, and bit back a smirk at how rapidly Tolaris was turning pale; it was almost enough to make him feel sorry for the man. Almost. But amusement quickly became apprehension as Tavin stepped forward; and Archer's laughter died on his lips as the Vulcan captain let loose with a rapid, guttural string of their native language, until Tolaris appeared ready to crumble even from the rear, his shoulders trembling with fear. A single word was snapped with brutal finality, and Tolaris's chin became attached to his chest until Archer thought his head would disappear.

Tavin turned and offered a slight nod, which Archer barely had the presence of mind to return even as he wondered just what the other captain had been in his previous life. Tolaris seemed to gather his strength before shuffling off down the hallway.

"I'll escort you to your ship," Archer offered. The words sounded lame and hollow even to his ears, making Tavin seem all the more gracious in his silence.

As they made their way down the corridor, ignoring the occasional strange looks, Archer recognized the sensation of good victory gone sour. He'd been vindicated, to the extent that he cared; the primary source of trouble was being removed from the ship, if not via the airlock, and with any luck T'Pol wasn't permanently --

_Dammit, she was right again._ He'd been starting to like these Vulcans, on what seemed like a more personal level, and all because they seemed so... human. _And just like humans_ , came the sour realization, _just because you like somebody doesn't mean you can trust them._

He watched Tavin striding calmly beside him; the icy facade of logic seemed to have descended over the once affable captain, leaving him just like every other Vulcan Archer had ever met. It made him think of every little argument he'd ever had with their representatives, the whole time wanting to wring their necks while knowing they were strong enough to snap him in two; the feeling that every word was being carefully filtered down to his level.

He cleared his throat.

"I was contacted by Starfleet after you arrived."

Tavin glanced at him but said nothing, and Archer waited patiently until the Vulcan sighed -- a very human sound.

"And what did they tell you? That we're spies sent by the High Command, to lull you into a false sense of security?"

"The thought did cross my mind," Archer admitted, and Tavin raised one eyebrow. "But I'd rather not go around believing the worst about people. Even if that were true -- especially if it were true -- I'd want us to part on good terms."

Tavin appeared to accept this, but seemed disinclined to pursue the matter. Archer hesitated for the briefest instant, then took the plunge.

"Actually, they were passing along a message from Kov's father through the Vulcan ambassador. He's very ill, and he hoped his son would contact him."

"I see." From the grave tone in Tavin's voice, he knew the issues involved. "It is unlikely, but I will relay the message."

"That -- won't be necessary." Tavin glanced at him sharply, and Archer tried to sound reassuring. "Kov apparently hit it off quite well with one of my engineers, so I asked my man to talk to him. I'm hoping he'll be able to look at it a little more...logically, with an outside perspective."

Tavin digested this for a scant moment before visibly relaxing, and Archer felt the hard knot in his stomach begin to unravel.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Thank you, Captain." Archer sent a meaningful look at Tolaris, who was waiting by the dockway.

Tavin gestured impatiently and the younger Vulcan quickly hit the button, vanishing inside before the doors had fully opened. The Vulcan captain slowly shook his head.

"Despite this unfortunate incident, Captain, I am glad we met, and that we were able to assist each other in some small fashion. I only hope that next time it will be under better circumstances." His thin lips pursed in thought, and his next words seemed apropos of nothing. "You know, Tolaris doesn't eat meat?"

"Really?" Archer's surprise gave way to a chuckle.

Tavin confirmed with a nod. "Everyone on board my ship has tasted it at least once...all except him. It's taken him this long just to tolerate the smell."

_Will wonders never cease?_ "I'd have thought that was a primary factor in your situation."

"An omnivorous diet is generally sound, from an evolutionary perspective." Tavin's dry tone recalled his Vulcan lecturers in college, but none of them had ever been able to to sound like they were smiling even when they weren't. "But my people maintain a great many customs in defiance of all logic, out of misguided loyalty and respect. I am sure you can recall similar episodes in your own species' history."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Our new lives are not perfect, Captain. But our old ones were far from it as well. I have felt anger before, I am feeling it still, even now. But I am able to contain and direct it, for the good of myself -- and my people."

Archer nodded slowly. "A captain's decisions aren't always pleasant."

"This one will be." Tavin stroked his chin, smiling mysteriously. "At least, this aspect of it. Tolaris will begin his punishment by serving in engineering."

"I don't understand," Archer frowned. "Apart from a little dirt and noise, what's so bad about engineering?"

"For one whose skills lie primarily in literature?" Tavin's eyes gleamed. "Everything."

Archer grimaced, and Tavin drove home the point. "He will also serve under Kov. He will learn a number of new skills...including humility."

 

* * *

 

"You think she's okay?" Tucker tried not to sound too worried, but he was, darn it. T'Pol never slept this late, never stayed in her room this long, and the captain had refused to discuss her absence all morning. _Maybe she got the alien flu Reed picked up..._

"She's fine, Trip. She just had a rough night." Even from across the room the lines in the captain's face were visible, with bloodshot eyes and haggard expression completing the picture. "If she wants to talk about it, she will."

He looked around, suddenly wanting to be sure they were alone. "Am I not gonna be happy about it?"

"Probably not." Archer still wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Then I don't wanna know," Trip sighed. "Anything that doesn't help me do my job, I keep my nose out of. I ain't makin' the same mistake twice."

Archer's left hand twiddled aimlessly on the keypad, his right dangling at his side as he stared out the porthole at a twinkling sea of stars. His voice was very quiet. "You know, you might have been right about being jealous."

"What are you sayin'?" Trip spun around in his chair, barely checking the volume of his own voice. The captain was eyeing him warily, and he felt a pang of dread. _Dammit, I knew those guys left too soon!_

Archer was eyeing him warily, waiting to see what he would do or say next. Tucker could only stand in silence and growing discomfort, finally giving up and turning away.

"I'm gonna grab some fresh air."

"Trip?" The genuine concern in Archer's voice only frustrated him more, and he waved it off.

"I'll be fine."

Outside the room, he nodded at a cute young ensign passing by, who returned his awkward smile with an extra bright one of her own. A wave of anger washed over him as he watched her walking away, so strong he had to lean against the wall while he waited for it to pass, breathing heavily. Mama Tucker's boy didn't have to have it painted on the wall to put two and two together; that slimy little Vulcan bastard had somehow messed with T'Pol, or tried to, and the captain had encouraged his friends to get him off the ship before something undiplomatically bad and permanent happened.

_At least Kov got somethin' decent outta the visit_ , he thought, wiping fiercely at his eyes until he could see again. But if he ever saw that Tolaris again, he'd --

Was this what the captain had meant? Jealousy was part of the evolutionary process. That they instinctively reacted to protect T'Pol as though she were not alien, but one of them?

He took a deep breath, trying to get his head straight before he headed back to deal with all that data. Already he was dreading the next time he saw her, and the newfound strength of his reactions. Archer might very well have been acting on the fatherly protective impulse all good captains were bound to have, at least to some extent; but his own feelings had obviously grown to something more -- and it was unlikely that she would ever willingly, truly share any part of herself with him.

He shook his head, finding a smile somewhere inside. _To Sub-Commander T'Pol_ , he thought. _And if it seems shallow, well...I'm only human._


End file.
